


Sparks

by rotosalt (orphan_account)



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-15
Updated: 2016-09-15
Packaged: 2018-08-15 03:27:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8040727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/rotosalt
Summary: I'll always look out for you. ( a fic in which I skip a lot of years but I have them aging together and a lot of appreciation for Tyler and a little sadness at the end. )





	Sparks

**Author's Note:**

> Hi. Just wanted to say, thank you so much in advance for even reading this. It's short, but I hope you like it. My fics are normally longer as I tend to talk a whole fucking lot for no reason but yeah. Sorry for typos, I haven't gone through and corrected yet. Please let me know if you see something wrong!

His voice was a wave of cool water crashing against a shore.

Crashing against rocks and shells and sand and toes and hands and legs and castles that crumble far too easily. No one's mad at the ocean for knocking over their sandcastle because they know there's no way to control it.

You could compare him to the ocean in that sense, rather than just comparing the tick-tack, up-down-up, fire-crackle sound of his voice to the water. He's uncontrollable, and he has been since the day they first met.

He's a free spirit, dancing amongst the waves with the salt-water making tick-tack, up-down-up, fire-crackle sounds against his sun-kissed skin.

He's seventeen, standing in his socks in Josh's bedroom. His arms are up in a stretch, his face contorted into a yawn. One leg of his pants was bunched up around the middle of his calf, displaying a series of good-nap marks.

Even now, with tears dried to his face, eyes puffy and crusted shut, lips chapped and shut tightly, Josh thinks he's beautiful. And he is. He's all long lashes and wide eyes and pinkish-reddish lips.

And maybe he's too tall. Maybe his teeth are crooked and his thumb is oddly shaped and his ears don't look the same. But he's _Tyler_. And he will never be anything other than incredible in Josh's eyes.

This is the first time Josh kisses him. It's brief and sweet, nothing above a short press of lips. But they both pull away smiling with their faces in their hands and everything seems like that time in the morning where the light from the sunrise is filtering through the blinds and casting an almost heavenly glow upon the room.

Love is a process, Josh has come to find out. It's not something you can rush into, there's not such thing as love at first sight. There's attraction at sight. But love, love is a journey. It's walking down a path covered in thorns and fallen trees. But now he can say he loves Tyler. And he can say it knowing that he means it.

He's thirty-two, standing in his socks in Josh's bedroom. His hands are over his eyes, a pitiful attempt at stopping tears that flow like rivers. Flow like oceans, flow like him.

Josh is kissing his knuckles as he pulls his hands away from his face. Even now, eyes red and puffy from crying, lips quivering, snot practically falling from his nose, Joh thinks it's undeniable that Tyler is the most beautiful person on the planet. And he is. He's all long bubble-baths and adopting stray animals and giving money to the homeless.

There's no telling how many times he's kissed Tyler at this point but he does it anyway. Tyler's lips still quiver beneath his own, his own cheeks end up soaked in tears, and he's almost sure that he's got Tyler's snot on him, but he kisses him. And when he pulls away they're both smiling.

That night Josh's hand is on the lower part of his back. Josh is cradling him and whispering things to him. Sweet things in that tick-tick, up-up-up, barely-there-breeze voice of his. And his hands are over Tyler's body, and his nails and lightly pressed to Tyler's scalp. And his mouth his ajar while Tyler's eyes slip closed, when Tyler's hands grip his shoulders, grip his hair.

He's sixty-seven, standing in his socks in Josh's bedroom. There's an abandoned walking cane by him, and to be truthful he's no longer standing. He's laid on the floor, a single tear rolling down his wrinkled cheek. 

Even now, with creases and wrinkles and greying hair, Josh thinks he's beautiful. He's extraordinary with his salt and pepper, laugh lines, and old man hands.

This time when Josh kisses Tyler, he's the one who cries. His smile is pure as he rubs a thumb over Tyler's cheeks, sniffling slightly as he attempts to hold back tears.

They fall alseep beside each other, hands nearly touching, slight smile on their faces.

 

  
He's ninety-five.

  
He hasn't walked in three years. His socked feet are perched on the thin matress of a hospital bed. There are plastic tubes everywhere. The steady beeps of machinery letting him know that everything is alright for now.

Even now, with his lips dried and cracked, with his eyes dropping shut, with his wrinkles and white hair, with his old man hands and his crooked bottom teeth and these machines hooked to every part of his body, Josh thinks he's beautiful. And he is.

This time when Josh kisses him, they're both crying. Tyler is lifting a weak hand to his face and wiping his tears. He smiles and it's with his eyes and he looks so happy.

The time when Josh kisses him it's the last. Josh's hands are covering just one of Tyler's. Josh's head is fuzzy but he can make out thoughts of the sun and the moon.

The moon has no light without the sun. The moon is a shell of itself without the sun and in that way you could compare them to the sun and the moon.

If he was the moon then Tyler was the sun and Josh needed him for light. Josh needed him. But this time as he kisses him he knows that he can't have him anymore.

When his eyes slip closed for one last time, when he reaches his hand over to reassuringly grip Josh's, when the nurses shed tears for a sun, Josh sees as everything comes to and end.

He can watch his entire world unravel at the drop of a pin because the machines are making different noises and the nurses and doctors and crying into their hands and Josh is solemn. Josh is empty. He's not emotional-sad, he's empty-sad and it's completely different.

When Tyler's mouth had opened and he had spoken "I love you" for the final time, his voice was a wave of cool water crashing against a shore.

Tick-tack, up-down-up, fire-crackle sounds against Josh's pale, wrinkled skin.

**Author's Note:**

> Again, thank you so much for reading. I might have something else to post about two days or so from now so if you liked the way I write or something then maybe you can look out for that. It'll probably be sad though. My fics normally are. Yeah, thanks so much again. I never expected any kind of support on any of my fics so thank you all. You inspire me. 
> 
> -b
> 
> ♡


End file.
